


Rosen Wine

by TheMapleEmpire (orphan_account)



Series: Rosen Wine , Iggychu [1]
Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Alfred is there for 0.1 seconds, Cardverse, Human Names, I still have him a character tag, M/M, cause I love him, pls help, they’re high, two drunk dudes fuckingc, under anon cause I’m a pussy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-07 21:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20462255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheMapleEmpire
Summary: He wants to think, so desperately wants to tear his mind away from the regret and guilt he’ll receive when he wakes up in bed alone, an empty and cold gap where his lover should be, when he left his heart with another man, only to have it be spilt. But he’s fine with it, as long as he gets to keep Arthur in his arms, as long as he knows Arthur loves him more than the king- as long as he abides by the rules, he’ll have everything he wants. Arthur is worth bending backwards, he’s worth everything.





	Rosen Wine

It started with a sweet melody, the humming of a string turned into a lovely song, seemingly written by the best of musicians. Roses that bloomed within a garden, full of flowers and greenery- Arthur reminded him of those roses, standing tall and protective yet so beautiful and delicate behind the countless amounts of thorns protruding. Maybe it was the way he avoided questions, or the symbolic meaning behind both the flower and the man.

The man, not the crown.

Would Yao ever love the crown hiding the man, he never would know. He doesn’t love Victorian streets, grand castles and rainy days, no matter how elegant and extravagant they shall be. He loves sharp, emerald eyes, blond hair and fair skin, the light freckles and adorn them and thick eyebrows above the green eyes and long lashes. He loves Arthur Kirkland, a man of many mysteries- a hunter, a solider, a pirate, a prince, and a self-proclaimed gentleman. The thick accent, just as thick as his eyebrows; the soft touches against Yao’s skin, thin lips tracing along his hips and neck.

Arthur Kirkland, not Spade.

He knows the affair can’t go any further than light touches against porcelain skin, soft kisses and gentle brushes of hair. Nothing more, nothing less, that’s their policy, those are the rules. Yao, no matter how much he begs and pleas, cannot bend those rules to meet his own needs, because in the end it’s the king’s word that finals. He’s nothing but a chess piece in a cruel game, a pawn used to block out attacks, a decoy. The higher the rank, the more rules he has to bend backwards to meet time and time again, over and over so he can stay on top. So he can stay with Arthur, the man.

The man that is married to another, by law and by some form of “love” Yao doesn’t understand. If the king were to find out his queen and lover was having an affair with his most trusted jack- his only jack- and adviser, Yao would have absolute hell to pay. So the romance between the queen and jack stays hidden away from everyone, no marks are left after a long, hot night of heated breaths and gasps, no traces of anything that might’ve come from those night- everything is left clean, and the morning after the two shall leave as if nothing had happened then. Because, in retrospect, nothing happened. It’s all left behind in glasses of unidentifiable alcohol, drunken slurs and getting high in each other’s presence.

“You’re rather quiet tonight, love,” Arthur’s voice was deep in his ear, a gentle whisper, almost inaudible, as soft lips pressed onto the skin, nibbling. Yao reached up, digging his fingers in the Briton’s soft locks, pulling the man closer, inhaling the scent of cigarettes and sugar, something so indescribably intoxicating. He breathed in once, closing his eyes as he let the moment take him over in a bliss of emotions. “Just thinking.”

Arthur laughed, beautiful and honest, on the edge, almost. It was a genuine laugh, one reserved for Yao and Yao alone. Not one of those practiced laughs made for business meetings, not the fakes ones for the king- a real, gorgeous, all-of-a-sudden laugh. A tune that could light up the entire universe if he tried. “About what, my dear?”

Yao didn’t really know the answer to that, he doesn’t think he ever will, not when Arthur’s fingers trace up his arm towards his hand, intertwining their fingers together oh-so perfectly; not when Arthur pours another glass of wine, staring into his eyes with such a gaze that could kill if it were a weapon. Yao finishes his glass, taking down the last gulps, some even dripping off his chin and onto his robes. It won’t matter, since those will be off as soon as he sets the glass down. Another regretful night ensues as he gets up from his seat, tipsy and in no right state of mind.

Lips on lips, hands tracing every surface of both bodies, clothes haphazardly thrown across the room, falling in each other’s arms once again. Yao closes his eyes again, letting Arthur take charge as he always does, breathing in, holding and then out. Then repeat.

He wants to think, so desperately wants to tear his mind away from the regret and guilt he’ll receive when he wakes up in bed alone, an empty and cold gap where his lover should be, when he left his heart with another man, only to have it be spilt. But he’s fine with it, as long as he gets to keep Arthur in his arms, as long as he knows Arthur loves him more than the king- as long as he abides by the rules, he’ll have everything he wants. Arthur is worth bending backwards, he’s worth everything.

His lover, not his superior.

Anything hurts less than losing the one he fought so hard for, having him be torn away from him by his own ruler, his commander- knowing he can’t speak out against the king, else risk losing everything, not just Arthur.

The man, never the queen.

A lover, not a spade.

Yao’s rose, Alfred’s crown.


End file.
